


Chains And Shackles

by mcnegan



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Ghosts, Hurt/Comfort, Mystery, Past Character Death, Possession, Supernatural Elements, its angsty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-01
Updated: 2017-09-01
Packaged: 2018-12-22 14:34:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,226
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11969400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mcnegan/pseuds/mcnegan
Summary: A mystery woman turns up at the Sanctuary and takes Negan’s life by storm, though she turns out to be something much more than he ever could have expected.





	Chains And Shackles

Unwilling to trade his safety for some much-needed seclusion, Negan paces restlessly along the inside perimeter of the tall fence surrounding his compound. Night has fallen and everyone has retired to their respective living quarters, leaving Negan to wander about on his own. These late night strolls are the only moments of peace and quiet he gets anymore, though he can’t be sure the loneliness that leaves him with nothing but his roiling thoughts is necessarily a good thing. With Lucille swinging aimlessly at his side, he takes comfort in knowing none of his men are stupid enough to disturb him while he saunters through the darkness with only his mind to accompany him.

In the shadows, a lithe form glides stealthy through the woods, in the direction of the wandering man on the other side of the fence. The mysterious woman moves quickly, skillfully picking a path through the scraggly limbs and underbrush, scarcely making a sound as she walks. She gives no thought to her steady steps, her mind on autopilot and her body moving almost mechanically. 

She moves not of her own volition, but with the determination and persistence caused by an otherworldly force. Having been raised in a lifestyle deeply-embedded in the practice of witchcraft, voodoo, and supernatural dealings, this is a sensation she is all too familiar with. _Possession_. Her every decision and movement is being guided by the spirit within her, for which she is merely a human vessel. 

With the end of the world at it’s peak, she’d hardly had time to practice any spells or incantations recently, though that in no way impeded the current inhabitant of her body. This particular spirit had still found her; tracked her down and possessed her mind and body, flooding her with the desire to get to the man she spies in the distance. She has no idea who he is or where she is, but the spiritual force had brought her right to him, somehow knowing exactly where to find the man. 

Just as she gets close enough to vaguely make out the man’s handsome features, he registers her presence, his attentive eyes flickering to where she waits outside the chain-link fence. He’s surprised to find such an attractive woman traveling all alone. Even more surprised when he notices how she’s dressed. 

She wears a long, lace gown of ebony material that hugs each of her soft curves in exactly the right places; her slender arms hidden under the flowy, sheer sleeves and the tips of her Victorian boots peaking out just beneath the filthy hemline of the garment. A black choker circles her neck, a tiny red gem dangling just inside the hollow of her throat. 

There isn’t a weapon in sight and Negan wonders if maybe she’s got something hidden beneath that dress. From what he can see, her skin is free of dirt and injury, so clearly she’s done well being out here on her own. Pushing past his appreciation of the gorgeous woman, he finds it odd that none of the nearby roamers seem to be paying any attention to her. Nevertheless, he decides to provide her some safety before they do. 

“Looks like you’re on the wrong side of my fence, darlin’,” he offers as a greeting, taking several steps in order to close the distance between himself and the strange woman. 

“It would seem so,” she agrees amiably, hooking her fingers through the holes in the chain-link as she observes the man in the dim glow emanating from the floodlights surrounding the building within the confines of the fence. “You know what they say…grass is always greener on the other side.” 

Negan chuckles softly at her words, turning to glance over his shoulder at the ground. “Ain’t no fuckin’ grass over here, baby. Although…,” he begins, turning back around to scan his eyes studiously over the woman’s body. “The _ass_ is certainly much finer on your side.” 

Rolling her eyes at his horrid joke, the woman holds back a toothy smile. She fights through a giggle as she moves the conversation along, politely requesting entrance through the gate and inside the safety of this man’s homestead. 

He agrees without hesitation, keeping pace with her as they circle the perimeter on either side of the fence until they reach the gate. Calling up to the guards at the entrance, Negan grants entry to his new guest, watching with a smile as she strides through the gate and heads straight for him. 

“What’s your name, beautiful?” he asks, feeling inexplicably drawn to the curious stranger. 

“Salem,” she responds, her voice musical. 

“What are you, a fuckin’ witch or something?” the tall man jests, holding his hand out towards her. She flinches when their hands meet, the contact of his flesh against her own assaulting her every sense. 

Salem giggles softly at his statement and the irony of it, trying to ignore the overwhelming sensation of his touch. Her mother had thought it funny to give her a most satirical namesake, though she’d grown to love the humor in it. “Or something,” she admits with a knowing smile, amused by the accuracy in his joke. “And you must be Negan.” 

She has no idea where the name comes from, it simply rolls off her tongue. There’s no reason for her to be aware of his identity and her only explanation is of course the presence possessing her body. Now face to face with the mysterious Negan, Salem feels totally at ease, as if everything in her life is right again. She no longer feels an emptiness deep within her, guiding her every which way; she’s exactly where she needs to be. The magnetic pull she felt for so long has disappeared now that she is near the man. 

“Ah, does my reputation precede me?” Negan wonders, assuming this woman must be from a nearby community and is likely aware of what a ruthless leader he is. 

“I’m afraid so,” Salem responds with a sly grin, though she admittedly knows nothing about him or his reputation. “Perhaps you should let me in and prove my preconceived notions to be false,” she offers, nodding in the direction of the looming building nearby. 

“Perhaps I should,” he agrees, not releasing Salem’s delicate hand as he coaxes her in the direction of the Sanctuary. 

Salem allows Negan to direct her inside, silently following as she looks on in awe at the interior of what was once a factory. Considering the late hour, there is no one around, though she sees plenty of signs of life within the building. 

Reaching an intersection of hallways deep within the compound, Negan turns to regard the woman clinging to his hand. Even in the dim, dreary light of the factory, her skin still seems to glow ethereally. He takes only a moment to decide that he isn’t going to just leave her on her own in one of the empty dorms where anyone can get to her. His many wives are vicious and catty, and his men are dogs who can’t be trusted. No, he’s going to take her directly to his personal quarters. 

“Welcome to my humble abode,” he invites as he swings the door open and gestures for Salem to enter. 

She glances around his room, rather impressed with the luxurious way it’s decorated. It’s an odd thing to see during the apocalypse, hardly a time one expects anyone to have interest in any kind of creature comforts. Salem steps further into the room, admiring the sleek furniture and regal decor surrounding her. There’s even art hung upon the walls and a beautiful four poster bed fitted with silky gray sheets. 

“Nice digs,” she compliments, whirling around to face Negan where he props himself against the now closed door. 

“It pays to be king,” he shrugs arrogantly before pushing off the door and pacing across the room to prop his bat against the far wall. “You want a drink?” 

Salem accepts, taking a seat on the comfortable leather couch while she waits for Negan to fill two glasses. Their eyes meet as his hand brushes hers and electricity zings through her fingertips. Negan holds her gaze for a moment, seemingly considering something before unceremoniously flopping onto the couch across from her as he sips the amber liquid swirling in his glass. 

“Not that I’m not grateful to be graced with your presence, but where the fuck did you come from, sweetheart?” Negan implores, gulping the last of his whiskey already. 

Salem sips daintily at the acrid liquid before placing it on the table in front of her, deciding she has no interest in finishing the burning, sour alcohol. She considers Negan’s question for a moment, debating how she should answer. “I’m not from around here. I’ve been…traveling. I just happened upon this place.” 

“You one of them free soul, roam-the-world hippie-dippie chicks?” he asks. “Spread the love and all that shit. Because I’m all about the love, baby,” he adds, punctuating his words with a quick grab at his crotch. 

“Are you trying to get in my pants, Negan?” Salem chides playfully. 

Negan grins mischievously, leaning forward to brace his elbows on his knees. “Seein’ as you’re not wearing any pants, the answer to that would be no,” he supplies, tapping his long fingers against the glass dangling between his knees. “But I’d be a goddamn liar if I told you I haven’t been thinkin’ about getting under that pretty dress and slipping my dick right up inside you. Seeing as I’m a proper gentleman, I won’t do that…not unless you want me to." 

His words receive almost no reaction from Salem, surprisingly enough. She merely offers a polite smile in his direction, knowing that he’s just trying to get a rise out of her. "And they say chivalry is dead,” she mutters sardonically. 

With that, Negan chuckles deeply, collecting their glasses as he rises from the couch. Salem watches him move around the room, opening various drawers to pull out several articles of clothing. Grabbing a pillow and a throw blanket from his bed, he approaches Salem where she remains seated on the couch. 

“Here’s some clothes if you wanna change outta that Halloween costume,” Negan teases, handing Salem a white t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants. “Not gonna fit you too well, but it’s what I’ve got. You’re more than welcome to walk around naked, I won’t mind,” he drawls. 

Snatching the pile of clothes from his hands, Salem stands toe to toe with the towering man, looking up at him with a smile. “A gentleman indeed,” she scoffs humorously as she follows the direction of Negan’s finger, pointing her to the bathroom. 

She changes quickly, folding her delicate dress before cuffing the bottoms of the baggy pants and tying them as tightly as she can so they don’t slip down her wide hips. Opening the door, she re-enters Negan’s room, creeping slowly into the shadows as Negan had shut the lights while she was gone. With only a dim light glowing from the corner by the couch, she squints her eyes in the darkness, trying to spot the man just as he speaks and scares the life out of her. 

“Jesus!” she screeches the moment she hears his deep voice. “Don’t sneak up on me like that.” 

Negan’s only response is to laugh at her jumpiness as he slips the dress from her hands and sets it atop his dresser. “Bed is yours…I’ll take the couch. Unless, of course…you’d like me to join you,” he offers with a purr. 

“Funny,” Salem draws out as she turns her back on Negan and wriggles her way beneath the cool sheets of his bed. “‘Night,” she whispers, watching him toss and turn, trying to get comfortable on the couch across the room. 

“Goodnight, Salem,” he replies, swiftly falling into a deep sleep and leaving her to watch him snooze peacefully until she too succumbs to her fatigue. 

• • • • • • • • • • 

Her pink, plump lips are slightly parted and her ruffled, messy hair gives her an adorable appearance as she snores softly in his bed. Negan has work to do and tasks to tend to, but he can’t seem to tear himself away from the sleeping beauty curled up against his pillows. He smiles to himself, admiring the young woman and wishing he could reach out and touch her. He resists – just barely, instead focusing on the intense feeling that there’s something so strangely familiar about her. Having a name like Salem, he would surely remember if they’d met previously, though he still feels as though he _knows_ her. 

With a deep sigh, Negan slips his muscular arms into his customary leather jacket and snatches up his trusty bat. Sparing one final look at his guest, he eases through the door and locks it behind him, making sure Salem is going to stay where he knows she’s safe until he decides what to do with her. 

By late morning, Salem stirs from her slumber, stretching languidly across the plush mattress. It takes her a second to assimilate her surroundings and remember where she is. She feels more in control of her body today, though she still detects the tendrils of the spirit within her. There remains a lack of explanation for why she’s here and she hopes she accomplishes whatever it is the spirit has brought her here for. As she sits up, something white stands out against the gray sheets and catches her eye. Lifting the small piece of paper, she reads the scribbled words Negan has left for her. 

**You have free reign of everything between these four walls. Keep yourself entertained and try not to break anything. See you tonight, I’ll bring dinner.**

**-Negan**

Salem smiles as she drops the note onto the bedside table, looking around the room as she tries to decide what she’s going to do until Negan returns. Climbing out from beneath the blankets, Salem heads straight for the door, curious to see the rest of this place. Negan had indirectly told her to stay in his room, but she wants to explore. Much to her disappointment, the handle of the door doesn’t budge and she finds that she’s locked in. Resigning to simply obey Negan and wait for him, she grabs a book from his well-stocked shelf and settles onto the couch, briefly wondering what Negan is currently doing. 

Across the Sanctuary, Negan is making the rounds and ensuring his people are staying on task. Thankfully, he hadn’t scheduled a run for today so he won’t need to leave the compound. Good for him considering how distracted he is constantly thinking of the woman he’d left in his bed. He barely pays attention as he sweeps past his workers diligently performing their duties at various areas around the property. All he can focus on is ending his day and returning to his room. 

Before long, the sun begins to set, shrouding the Sanctuary in creeping darkness as the Saviors end their shifts for the day and head inside for dinner. Not feeling up to spending a single second more than necessary outside in the heat, Negan follows a group of men inside, heading to the cafeteria as well. Cutting off the dirty, sweaty men waiting to be fed, Negan picks up plenty of food, piling the delicacies on a tray without a word to anyone before rushing through the empty halls and heading for his quarters. 

“Honey, I’m home!” Negan booms obnoxiously as he crashes through the door into the bedroom. 

Jumping slightly at the commotion, Salem drops the book she’s had her nose buried in and watches Negan fumble with the over-filled tray of food. “Finally…I’m starving,” she whines, eyeing what Negan has brought her and immediately snatching a warm roll from his collection of goodies. 

“Hello to you, too,” he complains with a roll of his eyes, too happy about seeing Salem to really be upset at her lack of a greeting. 

Mumbling some garbled insult around a mouthful of carbohydrates, Salem promptly ignores Negan as they tuck into their meal. They eat in silence, hardly paying attention to one another as they quickly finish off every bit of food Negan had brought. With a sharp smacking of her lips, Salem sprawls out across the couch, her hands cradling her full stomach as she sighs in satisfaction. 

“I love a girl with a healthy appetite,” Negan growls, his darkening eyes and the way he licks his lip giving away the double entendre of his words. 

“I love a man who knows how to feed me,” Salem fires back sassily. “Thank you for your hospitality, by the way. Maybe you are a gentleman after all.” 

“Told ya,” Negan chuckles, briefly thinking how much she reminds him of someone else as he makes himself more comfortable on the opposite couch. “What did you do all day?” he asks conversationally. 

Sitting up with sudden eagerness, Salem informs Negan about how she’d delved into his library and kept herself busy with an enthralling tale of murder and mystery. She describes the story with excitement, relaying the details of the book as Negan listens intently. 

Normally, he isn’t one for conversation, but something about Salem convinces him that he’d listen to her read a phonebook just to hear the dulcet tones of her sweet, silky voice. The woman has awoken something soft, warm, and uncharacteristically kind inside of him that he has no hopes of understanding, but somehow he doesn’t really care. In so little time, she’s managed to utterly enchant and bewitch him; make him feel as though he can truly be himself for once. He enjoys her company and as long as no one else sees this side of him, Negan doesn’t care how bare and vulnerable Salem makes him feel. 

• • • • • • • • • • 

The pair fall into a comfortable and friendly routine – eating the meals Negan’s men deliver each day and spending their nights and free time together. Negan had taken her on a tour of the Sanctuary and began leaving his door unlocked as she had admitted to having no interest in leaving his room alone. It’s not as if there’s anything for her to do outside these walls anyway. Aside from the occasional stroll with Negan through the compound around his men, Salem never leaves his quarters. Instead, she spends her days working her way through Negan’s bookshelf, discussing each book with him as she finishes them. 

“Will you read to me?” Negan bids one night after a particularly difficult and trying day. 

Salem doesn’t even hesitate, granting his request right away. Negan selects a book from the shelf and hands it to Salem as he sits beside her on the couch and pulls her legs over his thighs. She doesn’t mind his touch or proximity, but rather feels safe and comfortable being so near to him. 

It’s then she remembers how she’d gotten here in the first place and that there’s a reason she’d been led to Negan. She still doesn’t know what that reason is, but she hopes the force influencing her lets her in on that little secret soon. She wonders if she’ll still feel the same around Negan once the spirit exorcises itself and leaves her. She hopes so. 

Running her fingers over the spine of the book in her lap, Salem flips the hard cover open and flips the pages to the first chapter. Negan watches her delicate fingers with interest as she clears her throat and begins to read aloud. Her voice flows over him like warm water, calming and pleasant. Tipping his head back with a tired huff, he studies Salem’s fast-moving lips for a moment before his eyelids slip shut. 

A pang of nostalgic sadness hits Negan as he remembers many nights spent in this exact position with his late wife. They’d curl up in front of their crackling fireplace, tangled in one another while she read to him. Often times, her melodious voice would lull him to sleep until she’d doze off as well, wrapped in his arms. He takes comfort in the inexplicable familiarity he feels with Salem, almost as if it’s his wife curled up beside him and not some stranger. 

Negan allows himself to sink deeper into the memory of his wife. It isn’t a frequent occurrence for him to think of her. Sure, he’d named his deadly bat after her, but that was less for sentimental reasons and more because his wife had been his source of strength in life and he wanted her to remain so even in death. The thought of his wife brings him to an inevitable memory of holding her in his arms as she passed, succumbing to her sickness as he whispered his last words to her in her ear. _Be free, my love_. 

“You miss her, don’t you?” Salem beseeches, completely unaware of where the question had come from or what she’s even talking about, but knowing what’s responsible for her random outburst. 

“What? Who?” Negan asks with eyes squinted in confusion, befuddled by the question that draws him from his heartfelt thoughts. 

“Lucille,” the name slips out just as easily as Negan’s had when she first met him. It’s a peculiar feeling to have your mouth spew things beyond your control. 

Negan jolts with shock, panic shooting through him at the mention of his deceased wife’s name. The feeling is swiftly replaced with anger as he wonders how on earth Salem could know of her existence. Perhaps she’d snuck out one day and spoken to one of his wives. It’s the only explanation he can formulate as his mind churns. Pushing Salem’s legs away from him, he stands from the couch and runs his hands through his hair in frustration as he turns to face the woman staring up at him. 

Salem speaks before he can, her words only fueling his rage. “You can feel her, I know you can. She is here…you aren’t crazy,” she assures him, suddenly comprehending exactly who it is who’d possessed her. 

“No, but _you_ are,” he seethes, hardly believing this woman’s audacity to bring up his wife. “Get the fuck out.” 

“Negan, listen to me,” Salem placates as she rises to her feet, allowing Negan to keep a small distance between them. “I’m as weirded out as you are by this. I don’t understand it either. But she’s here…Lucille is here. I can’t explain it.” 

“What the fuck kind of sick joke is this?” Negan bellows, fed up with whatever Salem is playing at. 

“It’s…it’s not a joke, I swear,” she pleads desperately, trying to think of some way to make Negan understand or believe her. 

Before she can come up with a plan, a cold chill ripples through her whole body. She gasps in shock, her ears buzzing and her limbs heavy as she feels the force of the spirit take over her body completely. Negan looks on in irate confusion, wondering why Salem is gasping and writhing where she stands. She looks at him with blank eyes, her gaze distant and unfocused. 

“I am free, Negan,” Salem utters, her voice crystal clear and distinctly not her own. 

Negan blanches immediately, his face devoid of color when he recognizes Lucille’s voice spilling from Salem’s mouth, referencing the words he’d spoken to his dying wife. A look of horror and sorrow befalls his face as he struggles to comprehend what is happening right before his eyes. Tears fill his eyes as his brain finally catches up and he realizes Salem had been telling the truth. 

“Are you…is she…she’s really here,” Negan mutters to himself, taking a step closer to Salem. There’s no other reason for her to have any knowledge of his wife than if what she’s saying is true. He clears his throat, forcing his words out past the swelling knot caused by his emotions. “Can you…can you tell her how sorry I am?” 

“She knows,” Salem responds, her voice returning and her eyes refocusing as she takes in Negan’s reaction. “She heard everything you said to her in the hospital. She’s so proud of the strong leader you’ve become.” 

Salem comes out of her haze, her mouth still muttering words without thought as she delivers whatever message this spirit wishes her to. Negan reaches up to swipe several rolling tears from his cheeks as he listens to everything she says. 

“I would’ve been better with her here,” Negan laments, a small hiccuping sob marring his words. 

“She never would have survived, you know that. She was too full of life to be relegated to such a meaningless existence,” Salem supplies, merely acting as a conduit as she describes a woman she’s never met. “You’re thriving and she’s proud of you…you should be, too. You were always good at surviving on your own. You’ve been questioning everything you’re doing here. Just know that you’re doing the right thing…protecting these people and giving them a better life than they’d have by themselves.” 

The words flow endlessly as Salem continues to deliver Lucille’s words to her husband. The entire time she speaks, Negan’s brow is furrowed with emotion and tears stream down his face. Salem feels odd being caught up in this intensely personal and vulnerable moment, but she’s glad to be able to give Negan this closure as he seems to really need it. 

“And Negan…she forgives you,” Salem finishes as the breath is ripped from her lungs and she collapses on the floor. 

Dazed and disoriented, Salem steadies her spinning head and braces her shaking hands on the ground. Distantly she registers the sound of someone sobbing and before long, she realizes the sound is coming from Negan. Whatever meaning those last words held, they’d obvious had a huge impact on Negan. He’d clearly been harboring some guilt over something and being released from the burden of it is triggering quite an extreme response from him. She glances up at the weeping man just as he offers her a hand and pulls her to his side before dropping onto the couch. 

Holding her close, Negan buries his face in Salem’s sweet-smelling hair as he calms himself enough to speak. “Goddamn, you got me crying like a fuckin’ girl here, darlin’,” he sniffles with an uncomfortable laugh. 

He pulls away and leans back to look down at Salem’s face, meeting her eyes as he offers a sincere thank you. Neither one of them really understand how this happened or why Salem had come into his life, but Negan is grateful that she had. Gathering his composure, he takes Salem’s hand and leads her to his bed. Vowing to find out exactly what just happened in the morning, Negan clutches her close to him as they both fall easily into unconsciousness. 

• • • • • • • • • • 

Negan opens his eyes, not thinking anything of the empty mattress beside him until he recalls last night’s events. He’d fallen asleep with Salem in his arms, yet she’s nowhere to be found now. Rolling over, he searches the room briefly from where he lays, still seeing no sign of her. He rises from the tangled sheets and checks in the bathroom, growing nervous when he doesn’t find her there either. Coming back to his room, he glances around for any sign of a note indicating her whereabouts, but there’s nothing. 

Dressing quickly, Negan notices that the pretty lace dress Salem arrived in still sits atop his dresser. The black pile of cloth calms his nerves only slightly as he assumes the presence of it means that she’s still around somewhere. Whipping his bedroom door open, Negan strides from the room, leaving his baseball bat behind in his haste. 

As he rounds the corner of the hallway, he runs into Simon heading out for his first run of the day. Picking up speed, Negan takes hold of his right hand man’s arm and grabs his attention. Simon looks at Negan with confusion, raising his eyebrows as he waits to see what his boss wants. 

“You seen a pretty girl walking around here this morning?” Negan interrogates, paying no mind to his own crazed tone. 

“No, sir. And if I did, I surely wouldn’t hand her over to you…I’d keep her for myself,” Simon laughs, not grasping the weight of the situation. 

Negan’s frustration swells and he takes hold of Simon’s shoulders. “We need to find her, Simon. Tell everyone to keep an eye out for her,” he commands. 

“For who, sir?” Simon questions, not understanding who or what has Negan acting this way. 

“Salem,” he states as if it’s obvious who he’s looking for. “The woman I’ve been with for the last two fuckin’ weeks.” 

Simon tilts his head, face contorted in perplexity as he stares in wonder at his normally calm and collected leader. “Negan, what the hell are you talking about? You’ve been locked up in your room by yourself every night asking for enough food to feed an army. And when you aren’t ostracizing yourself, you walk around talking to yourself with a stupid ass grin on your face. We all figured you’d finally lost your marbles,” Simon admits, still not understanding Negan’s behavior. 

Negan reels upon hearing Simon’s words. What the hell is _he_ talking about? He’d been seen around the Sanctuary with Salem on numerous occasions, even when Simon was around. She never interacted with anyone now that he thinks about it, but surely they’d seen her. He’d been talking and laughing with her in front of them, it’s impossible that his men are unaware of her existence. Why is Simon acting as if he’d never seen the woman Negan had been toting around with him? 

Refusing to believe Simon’s ignorance of Salem, he orders the man to follow him back to his room. He knows he has physical proof of Salem having been here, and he’s going to show it to Simon. Swinging the door open with Simon hot on his heels, Negan halts his steps when his eyes fall on the empty surface of his dresser. The dress is gone. 

“She must’ve come back and gotten it. Probably still here…couldn’t have gone far,” Negan trails off, his words sounding frail and desperate even to his own ears. 

“Man, you really need to take a break,” Simon observes, subtly removing himself from the room and shutting the door behind him. 

Negan bounces as he drops down onto the edge of his mattress. He buries his head in his hands as he tries to grasp what’s happening to him. There’s no doubt in his mind that Salem had been here, that she’s real. He held her in his arms, he hadn’t just made her up. 

Flopping backwards into the pile of pillows, Negan scratches his fingers through his beard, wondering if maybe he _is_ losing his mind. He lets his hand fall limply beside his head, tipping to the side when his hand touches something cold. Something is stuck between the pillows and he eases the object out, dangling it in front of his face. A black velvet choker with a swaying ruby hangs from his fingers. Whatever had happened, he’s sure there’s no way Salem was just a figment of his imagination.


End file.
